


The perfect life of Darcy Lewis - almost.

by Katefkndoes



Series: The most ridiculously awkward relationship [2]
Category: Captain America (2011), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-21
Updated: 2012-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-31 12:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katefkndoes/pseuds/Katefkndoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Well…” she carefully considered the best way of explaining her situation, “why won’t Steve just get over himself and get in me?”  Admittedly, that was not her finest hour; her mind had decided that she needed to go balls to the wall crazy with her elucidation.  Still, at least there was no chance that Tony was going to misunderstand her.</i>
  <br/></p>
<p> <i>“Classy as ever, my darling,” he smirked, and the action set her at ease.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The perfect life of Darcy Lewis - almost.

**Author's Note:**

> Completely unbeta'd so I'm sorry about that. Also, this is the second part of a series (a part I never intended to write) but it can be read on its own - I think.  
> Also, for some reason when I copied and pasted it it decided to miss out certain bits of text. I think I've got them all now, so hopefully it makes sense.

Darcy considered herself to be an easygoing individual, but even _her_ patience was beginning to wear thin.  Normally, such a feeling would have prompted her to utilize the popular phrase, _fuck my life,_ but, rather unusually (at least for her life), she had no real cause to say that.  She had a great job, a free room in the coolest apartment New York and a boyfriend who managed to balance worshiping the ground she walked on while still proving good banter.  Oh, and if she was in any danger of thinking that wasn’t quite good enough, he was also a fully-fledged superhero.

So, yeah, her life could have been a lot worse.  In fact, beside a kidnapping and a couple of near miss death threats, her life was pretty great.

However, that didn’t mean it was perfect – sure _he_ was pretty much the walking embodiment of perfect but that didn’t make _them_ a perfect couple.  And she probably used the word perfect too many times in that thought for it to be entirely coherent.  But then again, her thought processes had always been full of synaptic misfires, which is why most people quickly grew tired of her – but not him.  And not Tony either, although her boss was old enough to be her dad so she _really_ hoped there were no sexual connotations to his tolerance.

Darcy had been dating Steve for three months – which, was just about the longest adult relationship she had ever managed to maintain – and their sex life _still_ hadn’t progressed past a bit of heavy petting.  And even though she didn’t consider herself a hussy, or the kind of girl that liked to put it about for anyone who asked, she felt she was well within her rights to yearn for sexual companionship with her boyfriend.  She knew all too well, (and even if she didn’t the rest of the Avengers had reiterated it to her several times), that Steve had grown up in an entirely different time to her and because of that, perhaps unfairly, her brain had jumped to all kinds of conclusions about why he was so adverse to sex. 

She gathered that he probably didn’t believe in sex before marriage – which, was totally fine and a great choice - but he obviously didn’t appreciate how insanely attractive he was.  And he certainly didn’t comprehend how much it tested her sanity not to be able to take full advantage of that super-stamina of his.

It wasn’t like the world was doing anything to make her situation any easier, because almost everything about him in the media focused on Steve’s sex appeal – whether that was intentional or not.  From magazine articles speculating on whether the serum improved _everything,_ to footage of him fighting off the latest doom bot attacks in his costume that accentuated the bulge at his crotch– although, admittedly that could have said more for how much attention she paid to the news rather than what it actually focused on.  Either way, it wasn’t helping.

The worst thing was that she was absolutely positive that Steve didn’t fully appreciate his sexual magnetism, which should have been endearingly cute and fully, but there was nothing at all funny about how good his ass looked in the tight leather of his Captain America uniform.  And all of the magazine photo shoots only seemed to sex him up further, emphasizing his pump lips and his soulful eyes.  Sometimes, they even made him grow stubble and put mascara on him – which should not have been as attractive as it was.  The truth of the matter was that even though she knew the real him, she still had a picture of him rock climbing from one of the articles as her screen saver.  And God, that was ever so slightly creepy.

She tried to take comfort in the fact that the internet was full of women who were just as crazy for Steve as she were, and who objectified him to the point that some of them seemed to almost _believe_ they were his wife.  She was nowhere near as bad as any of them.  She hoped.  Even if sometimes she could have sworn that she had caught Steve gazing at her with an almost predatory look in his eye, as though he was on the verge of taking her right then and there.   But that was probably wishful thinking on her part.

Although, admittedly, this increased sexuality of his could have been in her imagination – she wasn’t quite ready to rule that out, because she was _definitely_ frustrated.

There was just only so many times that she could satisfy herself without it getting a bit predictable.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

A few days later, after she had woken from an _incredibly_ satisfying dream about Steve returning from a battle with Loki only to take her in his arms and take her roughly against a wall, she decided that she _really_ needed to talk to someone – perhaps a psychologist – about her feelings.  But finding someone to talk to about her situation was not nearly as easy as it sounded.

It wasn’t as though working with the Avengers and dating Captain America afforded her a lot of opportunities to talk frankly about her relationship with people, (plus, even if it did who would actually believe that this was her life), and even fewer opportunities to talk frankly with other women.  Something, she rather thought Fury should look into, because five women working for the whole operation seemed a little sexist.

Regardless, there were only three women that she could potentially talk to (because there was no way in _hell_ she was going to talk to Hill about anything other than official business): Jane, Pepper and Natasha.  Since Pepper was always busy, and Natasha, quite frankly, terrified her; that only left Jane

Jane was almost like a big sister and Darcy had relayed most of her embarrassing college stories to her, but that didn’t mean that talking about her sex life wasn’t awkward.  Logically, the physicist should have been her first choice, since she was the only other person on the planet who could truly appreciate what it was like to date someone completely out of their element, but she’d _heard_ Thor and Jane and it made her feel a little pathetic to know that Jane was getting laid six ways from Sunday.  There was something demeaning about sharing a problem with someone you _knew_ didn’t share it.

“I don’t know… I just… it’s never really come up…” Jane arched an amused eyebrow, and Darcy realized her error quickly, “… in conversation.”  She finished, shooting her friend a pointed look.  “I mean, how exactly _do_ you go about bringing that up with someone who is, _technically_ , old enough to be your great-granddad,” she shuddered slightly at the image she’d conjured up of Steve with a walker.  “I’m totally not thinking about that _ever_ again.”  Jane looked at her for a long moment, somewhat bemused, and Darcy tried to shrug it off.

“That’s really odd when you think about it like that,” she admitted, and continued studying her computer schematics.  Jane’s distracted nature was at least part of the reason why Darcy had delayed their conversation as long as her sanity allowed, but that didn’t stop her being irritated by her friend’s disinterest.

“Well at least Steve’s the same species.”  She muttered in response, but quickly held her hands up in a silent apology at Jane’s annoyed expression.  “Sorry, couldn’t stop myself.”  She sighed again, and drew her hand through her bangs in a subconscious attempt to straighten out her thoughts.  “It’s just _frustrating._ Like being _that close_ to greatness and not be able to get there.”  She made a gesture with her fingers to demonstrate how close she was, although she really wanted to make a much cruder gesture.

“Yet again your choice of analogy is far from normal,” Jane clicked her teeth.  The sound should have annoyed her but Darcy was just quietly grateful that the Doctor had finally focused her attentions on the topic in hand.

“You know what you’re totally the wrong person to talk to.”  Darcy sighed; realizing Jane’s changing facial expression meant that the older woman was silently judging her.

“What?”  Her voice hitched slightly and then she sighed as well.  “I’m sorry but it’s just… me and Thor… we’ve never really had that problem – quite the opposite actually,” she smiled, obviously distracted, “we tried to go out for dinner the other night but he…” Darcy had heard enough, this was exactly what she didn’t want to hear.

“So help me if you finish that sentence I will _end_ you.  I can’t keep living vicariously through your sex life.”  She slumped in her chair, annoyed that her life would be perfect if it wasn’t for one thing.  When she was single it had seemed like such an insignificant thing – a problem she could have solved herself – but now it was a real cause for concern.

“I dunno what you want me to say.  You should really be talking to him about it.”  Darcy looked at her in annoyance.  Evidently, Jane had not absorbed exactly _why_ she couldn’t talk to Steve about it.

“Did you not listen to a word I’ve said?  I _want_ to talk to Steve; I just have no clue how to strike up that conversation.”  Jane looked at her friend for a long moment, as if considering, before she finally replied.

“You know…” she said after what felt like an eternity, “I really don’t know Steve all that well.”  Darcy opened her mouth a couple of times but failed, in her disbelief of her friend’s non-answer, to be able to form a coherent sentence.  Jane looked at her warily waiting for the inevitable onslaught, but by the time the younger woman had actually considered her reply she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone.

“Some fucking help you are,” she said not unkindly and left Jane alone with her Bifrost research.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

The following week, Darcy had sunk to rock bottom.  It marked a total low point in her life when she looked at Clint Barton and saw someone who might be able to help her in any way, shape, or form.  Let alone regarding him as someone who might have been able to offer her relationship advice.

It indicated a moment of weakness and utter desperation and her part, and if anyone were to ask her about it later she was going to claim that she was drunk… or high.  Or maybe that Loki had taken over her body and had the conversation for her.  And maybe she wasn’t exactly sure what her defense was going to be, but if she needed one it was damn sure going to be airtight.

They sat lazily on the sofa watching some generic show about a bunch of college dropouts who were seeking a way to find their millions and encountering a myriad of ‘hilarious’ problems along the way.  Suffice to say, Darcy was pretty sure that she’d dropped several IQ points during their marathon of the show – and maybe _that_ would be her defense.

“Steve’s so frustrating,” she said, somewhere between Jake running into Zach in Starbucks, and plotting their brilliant idea for a GPS device that somehow located the perfect partner for the user, and Dave plotting his sexual advances on a rich cougar, played by someone Darcy was sure had been in Clueless.  A casting that only made Darcy feel really fucking old.

“How so?”  Clint said, finally drawing his eyes off the massive screen, and if the cushion across his lap was any indication he was _really_ appreciating the cougar.

“I mean, why would he _not_ want to sleep with me?  I appreciate that he’s respecting me and all that, and don’t get me wrong I really like being respected but would if kill him to, y’know, respect me a bit less?”  She was vaguely aware that she was rambling, but all of the Avengers were used to that part of her personality by now, even if Fury still couldn’t abide it.

“I’d respect you.”  Clint said after a long moment, his voice dropping almost a full octave and his eyes roaming up and down her body in what, Darcy presumed, passed for his seductive look.

“No… just, no.”  She replied, disgusted – if somewhat flattered – by his innuendo.  She sat in silence for a moment before deciding that it was about time she shifted her ass and did something productive – and if not productive just something away from Clint.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

Another month passed with relatively little of note happening, which was rather strange considering the people she lived with.  Sure, there was, yet _another,_ Tony Stark sex scandal and Loki had blown up half of Cleveland but that pretty much passed as normal.  All of which said a lot about the chaos into which Darcy’s life had descended, but was not really relevant to her emotional turmoil – which actually said a lot more about her than she liked.

What was relevant to her existence was that she was so sexually frustrated, that she was starting to find _everyone_ she worked with attractive.  It had been embarrassing when Coulson had caught her checking out Fury’s ass (what, he was looking good for his age).  But it had been positively mortifying when she realized she was licking her lips every time Coulson adjusted his suit.

And it wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate that Tony Stark had a certain allure, with his playful banter and tailored suits, but that _really_ didn’t mean she should find her boss attractive.  Nor, did she enjoy the fact that her mind had deemed it acceptable to find Bruce’s ritual, morning meditation a little porn-a-licious.  Plus, she was pretty sure that Clint’s arms hadn’t always looked so compelling before, and she’d rather not think about the time she walked in on Thor in the shower… or the time she caught him riffling through the kitchen cupboards naked… or the time he’d wandered around the house naked.  Thor’s nakedness _really_ wasn’t helping her control her urges.

In fact, things had gotten so bad that she had even started to make eyes at Pepper and Natasha, and she could have sworn she left that phase of her life back in college.  And worse yet, she was becoming increasing certain that they were making eyes at her – well, Nat at least – and that could only be a sign that she had become a woman on the edge.

And worse of all Steve _still_ couldn’t see it.

The only person she had left to talk to was Tony – because there was just no way was she ever going to have any conversation regarding sex with Thor.  She imagined the Norse God would probably just throw her down on the bed and ravish her, judging by Jane’s description of his sexual prowess, and in her weakened state there was just no way she would be able to resist. 

She probably let herself think about that for too long, before she vowed she would speak to Tony as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

 

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“And you came to me for advice?”  It was never a good sign when the person who you had asked for advice sounded shocked that you’d even considered them for the task.

“I was getting desperate,” Darcy admitted.  There was no point in disguising her desperation; Tony was smart enough to know when she was lying.  He’d told her once that she got this look in her eye that completely gave her away, but she called bullshit on that because she’d beat everyone at Poker three times in a row, so apparently his sixth sense didn’t apply to card games.  Tony nodded a couple of times, apparently satisfied by her honesty.

“No one’s ever come to me for relationship advice…” he cocked an eyebrow in the realization that she wasn’t going to ask him for his input in that topic and Darcy half-choked.  “Figures.”  Tony nodded again.  “I guess you’re not after relationship advice then – pity, Pepper would have been so proud of me.”  He feigned heartbreak for comedic effect, but it was no laughing matter as far as Darcy was concerned.  “Go on then, what’s wrong – and don’t tell me you’ve called me here because you’ve broken your phone or you want me to fix your computer – _again_ – because we have tech geeks for that shit,” he puffed his chest out before he continued.  “I’m just about the most expensive technical support in the world.”  Tony and his ego left a lot to be desired.

“You sound a lot more stupid when you’re not in public.”  She noted, and received an icy look.

“And you’re simply charming,” Darcy smiled at that.  “Are you planning on telling me what’s wrong or am I supposed to have become psychic and just not realized?”

“Well…” she carefully considered the best way of explaining her situation, “why won’t Steve just get over himself and get in me?”  Admittedly, that was not her finest hour; her mind had decided that she needed to go balls to the wall crazy with her elucidation.  Still, at least there was no chance that Tony was going to misunderstand her.

“Classy as ever, my darling,” he smirked, and the action set her at ease.

“Classy is overrated,” she shrugged, trying to pass off her near-breakdown as nothing.  “You’ve got eyes; you’ve seen my rack – I have a great rack -” she added and Tony nodded, both appreciatively and understandingly.  “And he’s just all about holding hands.  And then walks around with his perfect sculpture of a body all ripped, and sweaty and, just out of the gym with a shirt so tight that it looks like it’s about to burst at the seams.  And I’m just a woman Tony - I can’t cope with seeing that and not touching - it’s just not fair to subject me to that… why would he do that, I can’t even with the muscles -and the heat - and the lack of doing _anything_ to me.”  She was slightly out of the breath by the time she finished, and in truth, she wasn’t entirely sure how much of that ceaseless rant Tony would have been able to understand.

“Breathe,” he said, amused, and she blushed despite herself.

“Right, yes, breathe… breathing is good.  I can breathe,” she confirmed.  Tony laughed and when she finally got her regular breathing pattern back to normal she asked.  “So what do you think I should do?”

“I’m by no means the expert here, but have you considered talking to Steve about this?”  Darcy opened her mouth to issue a suitably sarcastic retort but realized that, no; she _still_ hadn’t really discussed it with Steve.  Mainly because she had _still_ no idea how to broach the subject with Steve.

“You’re not the first person to suggest that, but it’s really not that easy.”  Darcy groaned.  “I feel like I’m corrupting a choir boy every time I kiss him.”  There was something wrong with her life when her boyfriend was seventy years older than her and _she_ was the one doing the corrupting.  “I mean, have _you_ ever tried talking to Steve about sex?”  She laughed, as though the idea was absurd.

“Sure,” Tony smirked, and Darcy just about choked on her own laughter.

“You don’t talk about me, do you?”  She said, before she grasped what she had said.  “No, of course not.  I’m not currently having sex.  I’ve forgotten what sex is… God I _wish_ I’d forgotten what sex was.”  She sighed and Tony laughed.  The kind of laugh that caused the corner of his eyes to crinkle up; his real laugh, not the fake one he used for board meetings.

“No you don’t,” he said after a moment and she conceded the point with a shrug, not even caring that she was being over dramatic and Tony was supposed to be her boss.  “It’s easy.  You just have to ask him.”  He picked up his phone, put it on speaker and dialed Steve’s number.  A picture of him with his shirt off appeared on the glass screen; Darcy raised an amused eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“Hello.”  Steve’s voice was cheery, as always, and sometimes Darcy wondered how he kept up the façade of happiness considering all he had been through.

“Hi, Steve, I’m just wondering if you’d like to sleep with me?”  For the second time in the conversation Darcy nearly choked, but Steve just sighed in a long-suffering way that suggested this was not the first time it had been suggested.

“No, Tony,” he replied easily, amusement filling his voice.

“Are you sure?”  Tony asked again, winking at Darcy.

“Yes, Tony.”  Steve replied calmly, as though it was a perfectly normal conversation.

“What if I grew breasts?”  Tony enquired, and Darcy snickered.

“You could…” Darcy wasn’t sure whether Steve was considering whether Tony _could_ grow boobs or whether he was actively considering sex with Tony.  She hoped it was the first; otherwise she was in some serious trouble.  “No, Tony,” he said finally.

“Okay, thanks anyway.”  Tony said easily, a grin appearing across his face.

“Uh, no problem.”  Steve replied and Tony put on the phone before shooting Darcy a knowing look.

“How often do you ask my boyfriend to sleep with you?”  Darcy asked, completely distracted from her problems, and trying to push the mental images of Steve and Tony from her head.  The very last thing she needed when she was already have inappropriate dreams about her boyfriend was the gratifying image of with him another man.

“Only when I’m bored – or it’ll be funny, or it’s a Thursday – or when Pepper suggests it… yeah I ask him a lot.”  He admitted, shooting her a completed unabashed look.

“That’s kinda hot,” she nodded, appreciatively before clamping her mouth shut in the realization that her mouth had once again gotten ahead of her brain.

“That’s what I’ve been telling him,” Tony nodded, and if he was at all bothered by slip he certainly didn’t show it.

 

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The thing with Steve was that he was really hard to talk to.  Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate – except for, so she was told, on missions when he spoke and people listened, or at least according to Clint.  He was very easy to talk to about things like films (even if he hadn’t seen any of them and didn’t understand half of the ones he had), sports (even if he was still bitter that there was no longer a Brooklyn Dodgers), housework (who knew Captain America would be so good with an iron) and pretty much everything else that didn’t involve sex.  In fact, Darcy couldn’t remember a time when Steve had acknowledged that he even thought about sex.

Which was somewhat of a blow considering Tony could talk about it as brazen as could be and Steve didn’t seem bothered by it.  There was something incredibly disconcerting about the fact that Tony Stark was close enough to talk about sex with Steve and she wasn’t. 

Then again, she had resigned herself to the fact that her life would never be normal again the moment that they discovered Thor was an alien.

Regardless, she still owed Tony another favor (not that she had repaid him for giving her such an amazingly easy job) because he’d managed to convince everyone else to take the night off to go and do whatever it was they did.  She knew for a fact he’d paid for a research weekend in the desert for Jane (but since Thor had gone with her, she probably wasn’t going to get all that much research done).  Plus, he’d sent Clint off to Las Vegas, and he’d taken Natasha out to the ballet, which, she suspected was at least in part to give her a chance to talk to Steve.

Although, she was pretty sure it might have been an elaborate excuse to take Natasha and Pepper out, because apparently he _really_ wanted in on that action.  Then again, she surmised, what red-blooded man wouldn’t have wanted to be in the middle of that action?

However, she had to offer some credit to Tony since he had arranged to have food from the most expensive restaurant in town delivered in, which also happened to be her current favorite, even if she had only been there when Tony had taken her on ‘business lunches’.  Which, was actually rather lovely of him, and Darcy certainly appreciated the gesture – although she guessed the effort was largely made for Steve’s behalf since he was a hell of a lot closer to Tony than she was.  Nevertheless, Darcy appreciated Tony more than ever that night.

So her evening had been going pretty well, for once she had Steve all to herself, and they were watching a movie.  It was nice to be able to curl up against his side and just enjoy the heat of his body creeping through their clothes.  However, the moment she put her hand on his thigh he jumped approximately a foot off the sofa and almost sent her flying off the sofa.

“Sorry,” Steve muttered, fidgeting on the seat next to her and Darcy smiled despite herself.

He raised his arm and she settled back down into his arms.  One thing was for sure, she certainly wasn’t going to try going in for the kill again without having a conversation with him first because she felt vaguely like she’d been caught vandalizing a national monument.  She guessed that wasn’t all that far away from the truth.

 

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After the thigh-disaster, (as she had come to think of it), Darcy decided that the world was pretty much skewed towards screwing her over – which was probably the wrong choice of words given her current plight.  It was probably for that reason that she had finally decided to give into her mother’s constant nagging and acquiesced to a visit with her parents, and had even been convinced to take Steve with her.

She had been avoiding the trip for as long as it had been an option because, just about every time she had introduced a man to her parents, it had ended in complete disaster.  In fact, most of her formative years had been a complete disaster, thanks largely to her parents.  Nothing she had done had ever lived up to her mother’s incredibly high standards, and her father barely seemed to register her existence.  She probably had issues, and Sara, who had majored in psyche, had informed her that she had standard second child syndrome.  Darcy, however, had never put much stock in psychology.  Still, at least one of the reasons why she didn’t want to take Steve home was because she was certain that her parents would only assist him in the realization that he could do so much better than her.

At least part of her was eager to display her superior life, with her great (and well-paying job), her gorgeous boyfriend and her awesome new car, but there was another, larger, part of her that couldn’t face being brought back down to earth by her parent’s indifference.  Even if she was dating her father’s childhood hero, she couldn’t see things going any differently with Steve.

Her sister had married a small town policeman at twenty-two, had twins and become a school teacher and her mother absolutely adored reminding her of those facts each time she bought a man back to meet them – like she was purposely judging that her relationship would not be so successful.  In fact, the last time she had bought a boyfriend home – Devon, a doctor in training, no less – during her freshman year of college, he broke up with her a week later because he “couldn’t see the relationship heading in a direction [her] mother would be proud of,” which, was such a complete cop out.  Although, she was all but certain that her father’s gun collection had at least something to do with their break up.

In addition to all of that, her parents were far less sophisticated than the company Steve was used to, which was saying something considering that he lived with Clint.  She had done everything she possibly could to dissuade Steve from attending, but he was so eager to meet her parents that it was impossible to say no to him.  So, instead, she had settle for warning Steve that they might not be what he was used to and hoped for the best.

Predictably, she had underestimated the ability of her parents to both, shame and irritate her at the same time.  From the moment they arrived her mother had taken it upon herself to criticize just about everything about her.  Nothing was safe from her mother’s scrutiny, from her hair, _why did you cut it off darling it looked decent longer_ , to her weight, _I know you’ve probably got private cooks on standby but that’s no excuse to let yourself go_ , which really stung because she knew for a fact that she hadn’t put on weight.  Hell, her mother even managed to insult her foundation.

It was a testament to her life thus far; that she was used to the onslaught and simply ignored her mother’s biting comments.  Except Steve looked horrified every time he overheard one of the snide comments and _that_ was what made her flush with embarrassment.  She could almost feel him slipping away.

Steve, of course, had been nothing short of faultless.  He had shown flawless manners and demonstrated his perfect temperament.  He charmed her mother with his easy smiles and his old fashioned politeness, and he had impressed her father with his skills at clay pigeon shooting.  Hell, her father had tears in his eyes as he recalled Steve’s perfect score on the range, despite the adverse conditions he had created.  He had actually patted Steve on the shoulder as though he was his favorite child, and even smiled approvingly in Darcy’s direction, which was more than unusual.

Naturally, her mother had taken her aside before dinner that evening to warn her that men who seemed implausibly good-natured were usually hiding something.  It should have been funny, because she knew pretty much all of Steve’s secrets, and even if he did have issues he was dealing with them better than anyone could have hoped he would.  However, after Steve had insisted that he should do the dishes after supper, since the food had been so tasty; her mother quietly suggested that Darcy should consider marrying him.

Apparently, some of Steve’s perfection had rubbed off on her, because, for the first time in her life, she was the golden girl.  Her parents finally seemed proud of her, which should have been the icing on the cake of a perfect relationship.

But since she _still_ wasn’t getting laid, it barely took the edge off her emotional pain.

 

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When they got back to New York, Darcy decided that her mother was right about her weight and she started going to the gym on a regular basis.  Although, she was pretty damn sure that she only stuck to her new fitness regime because it was the only way she was likely to work out her frustration. 

Despite the fact that they had been dating for months, she still didn’t feel comfortable talking to Steve about sex, which should have indicated that the relationship was doomed to failure.  But being around him still made her feel slightly giddy, and when he smiled at her she still felt like she could tackle the world and she wasn’t near ready to give that up.

Still, there were only so many times that she could save her own problem before it became a little bit weird.

Tony laughed out loud the first time he found her there, running on the treadmill as though it might save her life.

“Still haven’t spoken to Steve yet?”  He laughed easily, but the jibe did not amuse her.

“I don’t…” she replied breathlessly, “want to…” she took another breath, “talk about it.”  She finished, and tried to focus on keeping her feet moving.

Tony laughed again, like the complete and total bastard that he was, and went about his own work out.

She was really going to have to do something about this as soon as possible, because her converse were beginning to rub holes in her feet and any other trainers made her feet look like boats.  This, admittedly, was a sensitive white girl problem if ever she’d heard one.

 

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The following morning Darcy had woken up early – perhaps even beating Steve, which was an anomaly because he was usually up at the crack of dawn – and taken a long cold shower until she was certain that he had gone for his morning run.  Maybe he was such as frustrated as she was, and _that_ was why he enjoyed running so much - but she doubted it. 

Still, it was something she should probably consider.  Or, at least, it was something she wanted to consider because it made her feel slightly further away from breaking point.

When she finally braved the kitchen she was feeling more alert but in no better of a mood, and the last thing she wanted was to speak to someone. Sometimes, it was just better to wallow in your own self-pity rather than to suffer the humiliation of reliving the problem in the explanation to someone else.  Except, Natasha evidently missed that lesson in girl-school, because the woman appeared from _nowhere_ like the fucking creepy ninja Clint swore she was to anyone who would listen.  And Darcy, being the graceful creature that she was, nearly dropped her coffee – which, given her mood might have tipped her over the edge into complete insanity.

Darcy took a few calming breaths and eyed Natasha for a long moment.  She took in the pleasing way the spy’s tank top clung to her curves and the short bottoms skirted her ass cheeks.  Which raised two issues: first, she evidently spent too much time with Clint these days and second, she really needed to get over her girl-crush on Widow, because the woman was freaking terrifying. 

She dropped her eyes and shook her head slightly.  _Control yourself, Darcy._   Evidently, she wasn’t being _quite_ as subtle as she thought she was, because even though Natasha didn’t turn around she still managed to catch Darcy out. 

“I know I have a great ass but staring at it won’t solve your problem,” she said casually, and Darcy choked on her coffee.  Which, as it turned out, really fucking burned your nose when it came shooting out of it.

“I, what, no, I…” she flailed, and felt her cheeks heating as she wiped the sleeve of her shirt.

“Relax, I’m kidding,” Natasha smiled easily, which as just about the nicest thing she’d ever done to Darcy, and so she bit back a retort casting doubt on whether Natasha even knew how to kid. 

“Sorry,” she tried to look as apologetic as she could, because there were a _hell_ of a lot of knives around the kitchen.  Why, she didn’t know because no one ever seemed to cook and Tony had warned her repeatedly about Nat’s propensity for sharp implements.

“Don’t worry, you’re frustrated, I get that.”   Widow shrugged and joined her at the breakfast bar.  Darcy briefly wondered whether Natasha had been kidnapped and cloned, (because that was _exactly_ the kind of shit that would have happened to her).  However, she knew for a fact that Tony had vastly improved the security in the building since Loki had kidnapped her and the chances of anyone entering who didn’t have the specific clearance were pretty much negligible.  Nevertheless, she just wasn’t used to the other woman being quite so accommodating of her idiosyncrasies.

“Is it that obvious?”  Darcy barely even saw the other woman, as she was usually the one called upon to facilitate Fury’s requests, and even she’d noticed.  Darcy questioned what that said about her self-control and also what it said about her boyfriend’s observational skills.

“Only to people with eyes,” she replied, taking a sip of her black coffee and eyeing Darcy carefully, her face a complete mask.

“So, that’s everyone but Steve then?”  Darcy replied bitterly.  She got the vague impression that her sex life was becoming a source of amusement for her housemates and she didn’t appreciate it in the slightest.  At first she had seen the funny side, but that was a _long_ time ago.

“Well, Steve’s not quite like other men.”  Darcy nodded, because she _completely_ understood that it must be awful to be dragged out of ice seventy years after you were last awake.  And she appreciated that Steve was the only living Super Soldier, it was hardly news.  “You should take it as a complement that someone has taken the time to get to like you enough to see past the physical.”  That, Darcy thought, sounded awfully bitter.  “I’ve lost count of the amount of men who think it’s acceptable to treat me as some sort of surrogate blow up doll.”  She pulled out a knife from God knows where and began casually sharpening it, which wasn’t at all awkward, nor was it a conversation killer.

“Yeah…” she said, as lightly as she could while still keeping an eye on the blade.  “Sucks to be us, eh?”  Natasha merely looked at her, and Darcy decided it was safer to focus her attention on her coffee.  Plus, she figured that, if nothing else, she had bonded with the only other female (because regardless of how much she was there, Pepper didn’t count) in the house.

Later in the day, feeling slightly more connected to her fellow sister; she smiled at the agent in one of the briefings, only to receive an icy look in response.

Apparently, they _hadn’t_ bonded.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

The tension all came to a head several days later when Darcy finally blew her gasket at Steve. 

They’d spent the evening at the pictures and enjoyed frozen yoghurt on the way home to, they quickly discovered, an empty apartment.  Once they were inside, Steve leant down to place a gentle kiss against her lips.  He smiled contentedly as he moved back, and all of a sudden something inside her snapped and she could feel the rage bubbling up inside her.  Darcy took a couple of deep breaths – she was, of course, a master of self-control having dated Steve for months – to try and calm herself.

“I had a real good time tonight,” Steve grinned and that simple sentence pushed her firmly over the edge.  With those six words Darcy could no longer contain herself.

“You always say that.”  She retorted, abruptly, the heat of anger rising in her cheeks.

“I always mean it,” he replied gently, his smile faltering slightly.  Darcy looked at him for a long moment, before throwing her arms up in annoyance.

“Then why won’t you just fuck me?”  Steve blinked several times, momentarily shocked by her language before he recovered enough to form an answer.

“Well, uh,” Steve cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly.  In moments such as these, Darcy could not see Steve as anything other than Steve Rogers, because Captain America _never_ displayed such unease in public.  “In my day…” he started but was abruptly cut off by his girlfriend.

“So help me _God_ , if you finish that sentence I will hurt you.”  She replied venomously, although as soon as the words were out of her mouth she almost regretted them.  She could see where this argument was heading and she knew it wasn’t going to end well.  It made her annoyed to herself, because who the hell dated Captain America for six months and forced a break up with him before she’d even gotten him into bed?

Apparently, Darcy Lewis did.

She gritted her teeth with aggravation.

“I, uh,” Steve blushed, and dragged a hand over the back of his neck, and Darcy even managed to find that action irritating, which didn’t bode at all well for the future of their relationship.  Steve finally managed to find an answer, although his blush had spread to his ears.  “I was just always raised to believe that love wasn’t all about sexual intimacy.”  He half shrugged, but looked terrified that he’d said the wrong thing.

Darcy opened her mouth to reply before his words sunk in and she completely lost her nerve.

“But – woah, wait did you just say…” she took a shaky breath, “… I mean, you definitely said it, but – really?  You – love… Oh God.”  She rambled, unable to process Steve’s revelation.  “You just said you love me.”

Steve nodded tentatively.

And Darcy fainted.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

When Darcy woke up, she was sat in Steve’s lap, his one hand supporting her head and a vague look of amusement spread across his features, while the other one rested on her loser back.  She briefly wondered how he had managed to maneuver her so that her legs were strewn out behind his back, but that hardly seemed like the most pressing issue of the moment.

“Hey,” Steve said, smiling slightly, and allowing her to sit up so that her knees were braced either side of his hips.  “I thought I lost you for a minute,” he half-smirked, and Darcy couldn’t help but sense the influence Tony Stark in the expression.  It was a somewhat disconcerting realization.

“I really need to stop fainting on you,” she observed, trying to shift into a more comfortable position, before stopping abruptly when she realized that she was rubbing against Steve’s crotch.

“I see it as a challenge,” he grinned, and didn’t seem at all fazed about their close proximity, or the innate sexual nature of their position.

She smiled despite herself, and rested her head against his forehead.  With any of her other boyfriends, she was certain they could have only been thinking of one thing while she was balanced across their crotch, but with Steve it felt oddly content.  Despite the revelation that Steve loved her – and those were words that had not been uttered to her since her junior prom, and even then she was sure that had only been to get to third base – she didn’t feel at all uncomfortable.

Or at least that was until Clint walked in on them.

“Hey, woah, sorry… didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, and then raised an eyebrow.  “I guess I missed the memo stating that the longue was no longer a communal area…” he was abruptly cut off by Darcy before he could find his way towards a better insult.  The key with Clint was to break his verbal stride.

“Get fucked Barton,” Darcy muttered, shooting him the evil eye.

“At least one of us is,” the archer retorted, and then ninja-spy quickly, disappeared down the corridor into his own room and locked the door.  Obviously, he sensed that his retort was not going to end well for him if he stuck around to see the reaction.

“I’m gunna stab him with one of his own arrows and see how he likes it,” Darcy muttered into Steve’s shoulder.

“You don’t mean that,” he said lightly, his hand stroking a lazy circle at her lower back.

“Well no,” she admitted, “but that doesn’t mean a girl can’t dream.”  She sighed again, resting her head against Steve’s again, and enjoying the feel of his ambient heat radiating through their clothes.  He made a humming noise that fit perfectly with the slow movement of his hand and vibrated through his chest.  She sighed again, serenely.

“Have you calmed down now?”  He asked after a long moment, and she sighed in a silent response, cursing her earlier hissy fit and moving the focus of her, still present, hatred over to Barton and his big fucking mouth.

“A bit,” she said, still somewhat sulkily.

“So, what’s wrong?  You know you can talk to me about anything.”  She looked at him for a long moment and bit her lip before she realized that it was probably about as good of a moment as she was ever going to get to vent her frustration.  She figured that she had already insulted him and he had reacted by conveying his love, which was a positive.

“Why won’t you sleep with me?”  She said quietly, sounding both like a petulant child and a demanding boss.  Both of which, she appreciated, were decidedly unsexy.

Steve looked at her for what felt like an eternity, his face a mask, and Darcy felt the silence creeping up her spine but at least his hand didn’t stop moving circles on her back.  She bit her lip again and shook her head, before trying to move from her awkward position still sat across Steve’s lap.  However, Steve seemed to have other ideas and the hand at her lower back held firm.  For the first time she appreciated just how strong he was - a thought that caused completely inappropriate thoughts to swell through her given that her sexual advances had just been rebuffed.

And then something magical happened.

Steve smiled; the expression completely lighting up his face.

“I was waiting for you to be ready,” he admitted.  Darcy blinked at him several times, and his eyebrows knitted together as though he didn’t quite understand what was happening.  “I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with woman – well, none at all really – and I just… I wasn’t sure whether you’d want that.”  He finished awkwardly and the expression that passed over his face was what Darcy could only describe as adorable.

“My God, you have no idea how _much_ I want that,” she grinned.  She felt as though her birthday, Christmas and July fourth had all come at once.  She was so giddy with happiness that if her situation had allowed it, she would have had a spontaneous dance party.  Steve laughed; the sound rumbling through his body and sending chills through her.

“We really are unbelievably awkward aren’t we?”  He summarized, a smile teasing the corners of his lips.  And she had to admit that it was probably a pretty accurate description of their coupling.

“Just a bit,” she agreed, and kissed his forehead.  She paused briefly, only one other thing playing on her mind.  “Hang on, you said you were waiting for me to make my move,” he nodded, “well, how come you jumped away when I tried to touch you.”  He looked confused and so she added.  “The night Tony took Nat and Pep out.”  Steve smirked slightly, and she was reminded that he was just a man, no matter how old fashioned he was.  He shifted them both easily and pulled something out of his pocket, before cracking a blinding smile.

“My phone went off,” he shrugged.  “Tony wanted to see if my night was going any better than his,” he smirked, sensing the humor in the situation.  “I guess it was before I got that text - which is probably pretty ironic.”  He smiled again, as though he couldn’t help the action.

“You mean to tell me-” Steve nodded before she could finish, and she laughed easily.  “And here I was thinking you didn’t want a piece of this fine ass,” she wiggled and he closed his eyes for a beat before replying, somewhat distractedly.

“Never.”  She grinned; evidently her movement was having the desired reaction.  She wiggled a little more before she leant down to whisper in his ear.

“So how about it, Captain?  Are you ready to take me to bed and ravish me?”  Darcy could feel the hot breath of her mouth bouncing off his ear, and judging by the groan he issued before making a verbal response Steve appreciated the situation.

“God yes,” he replied, and surprised her by drawing them both up into a standing position.  Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist, he held her in place with one hand and a shiver passed down her legs.

“How the hell did you do that?”  She asked, but she _really_ didn’t care.

“I know some tricks,” he answered as he opened the door to his room, without moving her at all – and that shit was locked.  She couldn’t even describe how hot it was that he managed to do that without her noticing.  If Steve was that adept in complex maneuvers she was _certain_ she was in for a treat.

“I can’t _wait_ for a demonstration,” she whispered against his ear as he kicked the door shut.

“Yes, ma’am,” he bought his hand up to salute and she snickered.

“I can’t believe-” he silenced her with a kiss, his free hand shifting behind her head and pulling her closer to deepen it.  When he allowed her to draw back she was both breathless and a little giddy.  “Yeah, I can deal with that.”  She smiled and he laughed as he laid her down on the bed.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

“So, in summary, you’ve eaten all of the fruit loops and drank all the orange juice?” Barton droned on as he investigated the contents of the kitchen.  Steve had, seemingly, managed to tune him out completely, but Darcy did not have that kind of patience.

“Shut up, Barton.”  Darcy muttered and Steve shifted his focus from his cereal to his girlfriend and offered her a brief smile.  She couldn’t help but feel that there was something vaguely suggestive about that smile since the events of the previous night.

“I’m just saying, if Tasha finds out it was you, there are a lot of sharpened knives in the vicinity,” Darcy looked at him with contempt but decided it was best to let him finish his soliloquy.  “On the upside, you’ve left the pop tarts, which, is good because I don’t think I can cope with Thor sulking again – the last time he really took it out on his sparring partner and it was _my_ turn.  My back can’t cope with that again.”  He stretched out for dramatic effect.

“Get lost Barton,” she finally replied having no better retort and really wanting him to leave.  The response, however, only caused Clint to smirk.  Steve, for his part, kept his mouth shut and took a drink of his orange juice.

“I’m doing my civic duty to protect members of the general public – and preventing your murder, you should be thanking me,” the archer continued, completely unfazed by her obvious irritation.  Clint, Darcy decided, could give a fucking master class at being irritating.

“What part of get lost did you not understand?”  She looked at him over her glasses.

“Seriously, one time we were watching Two and a Half Men and she plucked a hair from my toe.” Clint’s face contorted at the memory and he shuddered involuntarily.  “I was nearly sick guys… I’m talking shivers down my spine – and almost vomiting-” he shook his head, before adding, off-handedly, “maximum respect to people who pluck their toes.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”  Darcy looked mortified, and dropped her spoon back into her cereal bowl, her appetite having deserted her.

“Nat’s a dangerous woman – I’d just hate to see your blood decorating Tony’s _expensive_ worktops,” he dragged his hand over the granite in an exaggerated manner.

“Get _fucked_ , Barton.”  Steve raised his eyes from his food, and Clint blinked momentarily shocked by the venomous response.

“Unlike some, _I_ don’t have that problem-” Steve blushed, his ears turning a lovely crimson color.  “Oh, apparently neither do _you_ anymore.”  The rosy hue swelled further down Steve’s neck and seemed to turn an even deeper shade of red, and Darcy choked on her milk.  “Hey, nice one buddy,” he clapped Steve on the shoulder, and Darcy had missed his journey from the work top.  _Fucking ninja._ “I knew you had it in you – oh,” he covered his own mouth in shock before adding, “and I guess now Darcy has too.”  He laughed at his own innuendo and Darcy seriously contemplated pouring her cereal over him, but Steve got there first.

“You know what Barton, I believe the lady told you to get lost,” Steve turned in his chair and eyeballed the archer.

“I’m not sure I like this new side of you, Steve,” Barton replied, a smirk on his face.

“Too bad, because it’s here to stay,” the blond replied, shooting Darcy a wink.

Yeah, Darcy’s life was pretty damn good.


End file.
